


Dancing 'Round on Pagan Holidays

by jinlinli



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Halloween, Happy Steve Bingo, Human Disaster Bucky Barnes, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Neighbors, Shrunkyclunks, Slutty Halloween Costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 08:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinlinli/pseuds/jinlinli
Summary: The duct tape had already been cut. Probably because the guy hadn't checked the label until after he opened it and realized it wasn’t his. Bucky looks into the box, wondering what costume he ended up ordering. He stops.There are a few things that become clear to Bucky in this moment:1. There may be some modicum of truth to the rumor that the end unit is currently being occupied by an internationally wanted fugitive.2. That internationally wanted fugitive also just so happens to be Captain America.3. Captain fucking America is standing in his doorway right now.4. The most popular costume on the Party City website is a Captain America costume.Fuck.Or the one where Bucky orders a shitty Captain America costume online, and it gets sent to Steve by accident.





	Dancing 'Round on Pagan Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> So let's just pretend that it isn't already a week after Halloween, and I was very timely with the posting of this fic. 
> 
> For the Happy Steve Bingo Prompt: "Hi, I got your Halloween costume delivered to me by mistake."

It’s less than a week before Halloween, and Bucky is so fucked.

Normally, he’s on top of his game when it comes to getting a costume together in time. This shit is serious business after all. Bucky’s never been the kind of chump who just goes plain clothes on Halloween. Normally, he tries to put in the time to do something cool or at least interesting every year. Last year, he managed a complicated illusion where it looked like his left arm got chopped off. The year before that he got a metal arm made for him by a mechanical engineering student named Shuri because her brother owed him a favor. Bucky’s never slacked off when it comes to Halloween costumes.

Granted, this year Bucky doesn’t have the time to figure out anything crazy. He’s neck deep in project deadlines, and his manager’s been breathing down his neck because he really should’ve gotten all this shit done over the summer. But it’s really not his fault that they’re so behind. Some asshole with a pretentious Greek-ish name (Theo, Thady, Bucky can’t remember it for the life of him) swept through and headhunted half the company’s staff. It was like watching a massacre, and Bucky’s been scrambling to keep on top of everything ever since.

But in between trying to clear out as much of the backlog as possible and herding the remaining survivors into some semblance of a functional team, Bucky did manage to order a costume online. Well, he pretty much just randomly selected the most popular costume on the Party City website that didn’t involve a mini skirt. Sure, his legs would look _amazing_ in them, but Bucky’s still trying to cultivate some semblance of a professional image amongst his colleagues.

The Halloween costume was pretty much out of sight out of mind for the rest of the month. Bucky pulled the teenage part-time intern out of a depressive funk because apparently he got separated from his mentor/father figure during this whole fucking mess. That was a rough go, but the kid turned out to be pretty bright once he got out of his own head. He even started being a really helpful part of the team, and towards the end of October, they’d managed to put out enough fires that Bucky begins to hope things might actually turn out alright.

So he thinks nothing of it when there’s a knock on his front door.

He really should’ve suspected something was up because well, Bucky doesn’t really have friends. Because of his job, he’s bounced from New York to Russia to DC to Bucharest to an African city called Birnin Zana before settling down in a steadier position back in New York. It’s made for a helluva interesting time, but it’s definitely not conducive for long-term friendships. He hasn’t even had the time to go out for drinks let alone gotten the chance to invite anyone back to his own place to hang out. So yeah, big red flag that anyone would be knocking on his door.

But Bucky isn’t thinking straight right now. He’s just coming off of a thirty-six hour grind to get everything finalized by the November 1st deadline, and he’s pretty much functioning solely off of caffeine and stubbornness. So Bucky answers the door, and he’s ashamed to say that it takes a little while for him to recognize the guy.

He sees the broad chest, the fuck-off biceps, the blue eyes, the blond hair, the overall embodiment of American masculine perfection, and it _still_ doesn’t click. Bucky just squints up at him and says, “Can I help you?”

The guy isn’t necessarily glaring at him, but he’s definitely too tense to be just stopping by for a friendly neighborly chat. He just kinda stands there holding a generic cardboard box and looks at Bucky. Like he’s trying to figure out what Bucky’s deal is. Which is totally fair considering he hasn’t actually showered or changed his clothes in days. Bucky’s definitely got a scruffy beard going, and his hair’s long enough to brush his shoulders. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, okay? Rough couple of months. Rough year if he’s being honest.

“Are you,” the guy says, “uhh, James Barnes?”

Bucky narrows his eyes suspiciously at him. “Yeah, and what’s it to you?”

On any other day, Bucky would’ve been smooth as fuck. He would’ve flirted the pants off this guy because he’s literally one of the most attractive people he’s ever seen. But no matter how stupidly well-proportioned his face is, no matter how improbably muscular his body seems to be, every moment Bucky spends talking to this guy is a moment he can’t spend curled up in bed sleeping. So yeah, maybe he’s being a little bit rude.

The guy lifts the box he’s holding. “I think this is yours.”

And now that Bucky’s actually paying attention to it, yeah, there’s his name on the shipping label. He flushes a little. His neighbor’s just trying to do something nice, and Bucky ended up being a huge asshole to him. Great. “Oh, uhh, thanks,” he mumbles out and takes the box.

The duct tape had already been cut. Probably because the guy hadn’t checked the label until after he opened it and realized it wasn’t his. Bucky looks into the box, wondering what costume he ended up ordering. He stops.

There are a few things that become clear to Bucky in this moment:

1\. There may be some modicum of truth to the rumor that the end unit is currently being occupied by an internationally wanted fugitive.

2\. That internationally wanted fugitive also just so happens to be Captain America.

3\. Captain fucking America is standing in his doorway right now.

4\. The most popular costume on the Party City website is a Captain America costume.

 _Fuck_.

Without thinking, Bucky grabs Captain America’s arm and yanks him inside before slamming his door shut. The Captain doesn’t even try to resist. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting the random civilian to shove him into his apartment. Neither did Bucky to be fucking honest. It’s just that he sent Captain America a shitty Party City version of his uniform, and he has no fucking idea how to begin to handle this kind of situation.

Sure, Janice in 3B has been going on and on about how much of an honor it is to have Captain America’s presence grace their humble building. It’s kind of been an open secret for the last month. Patty burst into the semi-annual BBQ raving that Captain America was living incognito amongst them, and she knows this because she recognized his ass when he was leaning over to pick up his newspaper. All things considered, it really wasn’t the smartest idea for him to try to lay low in an apartment complex largely occupied by retired, nosy, and weirdly horny old ladies. They ferret secrets out faster than daytime crime procedural detectives.

With the speed of their information network, word’s probably already spread that Captain America is alone getting up to God knows what with the Nice Young Man Who Needs A Haircut in 5D. Which shit, _Captain America is in his apartment_.

Bucky presses his back against the door, and for a long pause, they stare at each other with surprise and no small amount of dismay.

“Sorry,” Bucky manages to say. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

The Captain’s brow draws down. “Look, James—” he starts to say.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“No one calls me James. It’s Bucky.”

The Captain looks at him for a moment longer. “Bucky,” he says. “You have to understand that there’s a lot at stake here. I can’t just—”

It takes a moment for Bucky to realize what’s actually going on right now, and when it clicks, he can’t stop the baffled, somewhat panicked laugh from slipping out. “Oh my god, are you giving me the ‘You know who I am, now I have to kill you’ speech?”

The Captain shakes his head emphatically. “ _No_ , but you didn’t know that when you sent me this. I know it might’ve seemed funny and harmless at the time, but I’m basically a war criminal in the public eye. You don’t know me. You don’t know I’m not some white supremacist terrorist with a bone to pick with the world. If I’d been that kind of guy and you sent me this, I might’ve tried to hurt you. Pranking a fugitive in a way that basically announces you know who he is and where he’s hiding could’ve gotten you killed if he thought you were a big enough threat. I just wanted you to know that you should be more careful in the future.”

It’s all said very earnestly, and for a moment, Bucky’s just fixated on how weird it is seeing that expression of mingled compassion and exasperation on the Captain’s face. He’s only really seen candid shots of him running through destroyed cities or the press releases where he’s doing damage control for the Avengers. Neither of those things are really conducive for making him seem like a real live person with actual emotions. Because it’s surprisingly easy to forget that he’s an actual human being when your only exposure to him is filtered through half a dozen PR teams. And maybe Bucky really should stop calling him the Captain in his head. So just Steve, he guesses.

Then the actual meaning of his words register.

“Wait,” Bucky says, “You think I sent that to you on _purpose?_ ”

“I know there are some people who are starting to suspect who I might be.”

“More like the entire goddamn building. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but your scientifically enhanced muscles are really really distinctive.” Which is not entirely true, but there’s no way in hell that Bucky’s going to say to Captain America’s face that he’d been made because a sixty-year-old woman spent too much time staring at his butt.

Steve pinches the skin beneath his nose. “I’m aware, unfortunately.”

“Well, let me tell you, this was very much an accident, and I’m really kinda offended that you’d think I would consider this a good prank. C’mon, give me more credit than that. I can totally come up with something better if I wanted to. I mean, sending a crappy Halloween costume version of someone’s uniform? That’s just _pathetic_.”

There’s a weird expression on Steve face like the fact that Bucky may’ve had a reason for ordering a Halloween costume in October that doesn’t involve pranking a supposed international war criminal is bizarre. “Well, what were you planning on doing with it then?” he asks.

“What do you think?” Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a Halloween costume. I was going to wear it.”

“You were going to wear _that_ ,” Steve says, his voice flat.

“I mean, you’re kind of a popular costume. People like the fake muscles and the patriotism apparently.”

Steve keeps staring at Bucky with disbelief. “Fake muscles,” he says.

“Hey, not all of us are as well endowed as you.”

“ _Well endowed_.”

“Quit repeating every other word I’m saying. It’s getting old really fucking fast.”

Steve keeps looking at Bucky with that bizarre look on his face until he finally sighs and places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I need to ask you something,” he says seriously. “Have you actually looked at this costume before buying it, Bucky?”

He raises an eyebrow at him. “I mean, no? I was in a rush. I just ordered the first thing on the website.”

“I think you should look at the costume.”

Bucky gives Steve another weird look before obeying. The costume’s pretty much exactly as he remembers it being. Just a bunch of blue fabric with red and white accents here and there. He shoots a look at Steve who just jerks his head back at the costume. Bucky sighs and takes it out of the box.

The first thing he notices is the fact that the material is a lot cheaper and thinner than he expected. He wasn’t expecting anything particularly high quality, but this isn’t even the cheap polyester that’s normally used in these sorts of costumes. Instead, it’s made of a thin elastic fabric. There isn’t any sort of foam padding stuffed into the costume to make the wearer seem bulkier than they actually are. Some of the standard props are included. A helmet, a plastic frisbee shield, a foam belt, and a pair of floppy boot covers.

Then Bucky notices the boob window. Well, it’s a boob window if you’re feeling generous. In reality, it’s a neckline that plunges almost all the way down to the navel.

“ _Oh my god_.”

“Do you understand now why I thought this was a prank?” Steve says dryly.

And that’s about the moment that it hits him that he hadn’t just sent Steve a cheap costume of himself, he’d sent him a cheap _slutty_ costume of himself. Bucky groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.“Yeah, I’m starting to figure out what this must’ve looked like.”

“I didn’t know people even made costumes like this about me.”

“People make sexy costumes based on everything,” Bucky says numbly. His brain can’t even begin to process how mortified he is. “I’d be more surprised if people _hadn’t_ been selling slutty costume versions of your uniform.”

Steve plucks at the slinky fabric with a snort. “It’s kinda funny. I’m just trying to imagine how ridiculous someone would look if they actually wore this thing.”

Bucky flushes bright red when an image of what Steve would look like wearing this pops into his head. Christ, his whole chest would be on display, and every other part of his body wouldn’t be much better off. The material is so thin that literally _nothing_ would be left to the imagination. Every dip and curve of his body would be on full display. And all the extra accessories would somehow make it all worse. They would only emphasize just how little the fabric’s actually doing to hide his body.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Funny.”

“Uhh, Bucky? Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m totally fine. Just trying to spontaneously combust here, don’t mind me.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“For one, I’m pretty sure I’m violating something in the Geneva Conventions by introducing Captain fucking America to the existence of slutty Halloween costumes—”

“I already knew about them before,” Steve cuts in. “I haven’t been living under a rock.”

“—And two, I don’t have anything to wear for Halloween now.”

At that, Steve goes still, his gaze flicking up to Bucky’s face. There’s a gleam of _something_ in his eye. “Now I wouldn’t say that.”

His throat suddenly starts to go dry. “I mean, it’s either this or nothing at all.”

Steve reaches into the box and takes out the costume again. His voice is laden with promise when he says, “You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.”

 _Oh_.

The old ladies have a fucking field day when they learn that Bucky does end up wearing that Captain America costume for Halloween. They’re even more thrilled when they find out Steve’s the only one who gets to see it on him.

**Author's Note:**

> What is continuity. Let's all agree to not think too hard about it for this fic.
> 
> Join me on [tumblr](http://jinlinli.tumblr.com/) if you like!


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